After Twilight

by Amanda Ashley, Christine Feehan

  She smiled in return, then sobered, looking at the proof that such wasn't always the case. "What are we going to do about this?"

  "Clean the wound, stitch her up, and send her on her way."

  "You know that's not what I meant. What are we going to do about the traps?"

  Instead of answering, he nodded toward the shelves. "Grab that disinfectant in the green bottle and some cotton balls for me. I'm afraid she'll try to jump off the table if I walk away."

  Fully intending to bring up the matter again, Stephanie left to retrieve the requested items. She watched him clean the wound, soothing the animal with the soft tone of his voice. The animal even bent its head and licked his hand once. She couldn't believe what she was seeing.

  "My cameras," she groaned. "I left them behind."

  "I'll get them for you. I'm going back to snap all the traps I find after I've finished here."

  "I'll go with you," Stephanie decided.

  He glanced up again, his gaze roaming her in a way that made her cheeks burn. "I thought you might prefer to stay here and have a nice long shower while I'm gone."

  She'd been longing for a hot shower earlier, and wondered if Rick read minds as a sideline. Glancing down at her dirty clothes, Stephanie realized it wouldn't take a rocket scientist to figure out she needed a shower. "You've found another of my weaknesses. Hot showers and hot coffee."

  Rick pulled open a drawer beneath the table and removed some instruments. He didn't glance up when he said, "I plan to find all of them."

  "What?" she asked breathlessly.

  "The traps," he answered, but that almost smile of his hovered over his mouth.

  "Oh," she said. "Do you want me to do anything else for you?"

  He paused long enough to make her think he was considering his options. "No," he finally answered. "I'll be done here in a minute. Go on in and have your shower. None of my jeans will fit you, but feel free to borrow a shirt if you'd like."

  "Thanks." She hurried out, needing a cold shower instead of a hot one. His gentleness with the wolf, and his admission of loneliness reached her on a level beyond the physical. But there was something very strange about him. She still became upset when she remembered his smooth bare chest, not a hint of a cut or a scratch on him.

  The lighting hadn't been good, she reasoned. The scratch was probably there, she just hadn't noticed. She supposed she could rip his shirt open when he came in and have a nice long look. Now, there was an appealing idea. A better one occurred to her a while later when she stepped beneath the soothing hot spray of Rick's shower. If he joined her, she could hunt for all types of imperfections on his tall, muscled body. Stephanie sighed and adjusted the faucet to cold.

  Rick finished attending to the wolf. He'd stitched her up and now took her outside. She rewarded him with a wet lick on his face. "You're welcome," he said softly. "Now go home. Your pups will be wanting supper."

  The female trotted off into the woods, favoring the injured leg, but he'd given her a good dose of antibiotics and he felt certain she'd heal without incident. His gaze swung toward the cabin. He imagined Stephanie would be in the shower by now. Naked.

  What would she do if he stripped down and joined her? The desire to find out was almost more than he could resist. But he needed to resist. If he had any conscience left, he wouldn't encourage further intimacy between them. He'd already made that mistake once. And Stephanie Shane wasn't the type of woman a man used for sex, then walked away from.

  She expected more, and she deserved more. The appearance of the old woman at her campsite still bothered him. Rick's immediate instinct had been to hunt the old woman down, to make sure she never told anyone else what she suspected about him. He'd fought those dark urges. They were part of the wolf, not of the man. Since he'd been standing guard at night over Stephanie's campsite, unbeknownst to her, he hadn't felt compelled to act concerning the woman. He hoped she'd disappeared, gone back to wherever she came from, and had the sense to know he wasn't anyone she should threaten.

  Stephanie's behavior the other night also worried him. He hoped it had just been an instance where loneliness had overcome good judgment. He hoped so, because he didn't like the implications of her responding to nothing more than the call of the wild. Animalistic need.

  If she wanted him for no other reason than the fact she was a female and he was a male, he'd have to worry about her. So far, he hadn't noticed anything different about her. Only time would tell. And the days between the full moon cycles, he knew from experience, were all too short.

  Casting a longing glance toward the cabin, he set off toward Larry Anderson's place. His was the property where the wolf had been trapped. He imagined if Larry had set traps, so had some of the others. Rick planned another visit to Hugh. The farmers might have the right to set traps on their own property, but if Stephanie continued to follow the wolves and film them, she could get hurt.

  The trek didn't take him long. He was in good shape. Rick retrieved Stephanie's cameras and moved down the hill where they'd discovered the first trap. He found a long stick and used it to snap any traps he came across. Several more were located around the area. He took his time, hoping Stephanie might be gone when he returned.

  Of course, he had her cameras, so the possibility seemed slim. The sun was sinking. It would soon be dark. He had enough trouble battling his attraction to her when he wasn't under the night's influence. Darkness made him more vulnerable to his baser needs. Stephanie was definitely a baser need.

  The cabin was dark as he approached. Surely if she'd stayed, lights would be burning inside. He breathed a small sigh of relief. She did have some common sense where he was concerned. Rick trudged up the steps of the porch and went inside. He had great night vision and felt no need to switch on a light. After setting Stephanie's cameras on the kitchen bar, he moved toward his favorite chair. He plopped down. A scream had him jumping back up.

  "Stephanie?"

  "Rick," she breathed. "You scared me to death."

  "I didn't know you were there." He walked over and switched on a lamp.

  "I must have dozed off."

  He turned in time to see her stretch. She wore one of his shirts, which swallowed her, but her legs were bare. And they were incredibly long.

  "I hope you don't mind, but I used your washer and dryer. I can't stand to put on dirty clothes after I've had a shower."

  Did that mean she had nothing on beneath his shirt? The mere thought was enough to make him hard. Rick tugged his shirttail from his jeans to cover the problem.

  "I could use a shower, too." He nodded toward the kitchen bar. "I brought your cameras back."

  "Thank goodness." She rose and walked to the counter. His shirt hit her at the knees, and by the slight bouncing motion of her breasts as she moved, he thought it safe to assume she'd washed all of her clothing, underwear included. His problem worsened.

  "Did you find more traps?"

  "Yeah," he answered, thinking she had a trap he wouldn't mind getting snared in.

  "Should we talk to the sheriff again?"

  She leaned over the bar, studying her camera, probably checking to see how many pictures she had left. The position made the shirt hike up in the back, teasing him with possibilities. It would be simple for him to walk over, yank that shirt up all the way, bend her over the bar, and do what he'd been foaming at the mouth to do since the first time he saw her. He took a step toward her. She straightened and turned around.

  "Did you hear me?"

  He glanced up. "What?"

  "The sheriff. We should tell him about the traps."

  Rick nodded. "I'll talk to him tomorrow. That is, if I can get a ride into town."

  She frowned. "Why don't you have a phone?"

  "Too far from town. They haven't run the lines out this far yet."

  Stephanie replaced her camera and moved toward the couch. She sat and drew her legs up beneath her. "I'd think that wouldn't be too good for your business."

  The wo
man was killing him. If she moved a fraction, he might catch a glimpse of something he didn't need to see at the moment. "Most everyone just brings an animal in if it's sick and leaves it in the pens, or they come get me. It really hasn't been a problem, since everyone else out this far doesn't have a phone, either."

  "How about a cell phone?" she suggested. "In fact, you can use mine if you'd rather call the sheriff."

  Rick shook his head. "Poor reception out here because of the mountains. If you'd tried to make a call since you arrived, you would have already realized that."

  "Oh. I haven't tried to contact anyone."

  She shifted. He groaned.

  "I'm going to take a shower." Rick marched toward the bathroom.

  "My clothes are probably dry. I'll get dressed."

  "Good idea," he muttered.

  "Ah, I used your razor, too," she called. "I don't know how I got so hairy so fast, but my legs looked like Christmas trees."

  He paused. Since he didn't shave his legs, he didn't know if unusual hair growth was anything that should concern him. He'd always had a heavy beard, so he'd never paid much attention. "That's fine," he said, forcing himself to move on. He walked into the bathroom and unbuttoned his shirt. A timid knock sounded a second later.

  "Can I grab my shoes before you get undressed?"

  Rick opened the door. She scooted inside, brushing up against him. Contact with her was like having volts of electricity pumped into his body. Her gaze lifted, and he knew she felt it, too, the undeniable attraction that stood between them.

  "Thanks for your help today," she said, her gaze still glued to his mouth. "You're very good with the wolves. You just marched right up to the female without the least bit of concern for your own safety. I think you might be the bravest person I've ever met."

  The compliment pleased him, and sickened him. "Maybe just the stupidest." Rick glanced around and spotted her small hiking boots. He bent and swept them up, handing them to her. "You should get dressed."

  She took the boots. "Yes, and I should be returning to my campsite. It's already dark outside."

  "Wait for me and I'll walk you back," he said, although it would be better if she were gone when he finished his shower. The temptation to seduce her became stronger with every second that passed. Still, he wasn't comfortable about her roaming in the night with a crazy woman on the loose. A crazy woman who wasn't so crazy.

  "That won't be necessary. I feel confident that I won't be bothered by that woman again, and besides, I'm starving. I need to get back and scrounge up something to eat."

  "I would offer to fix you dinner, but I don't imagine I have anything you'd want."

  Her gaze drifted over him. Although Rick hadn't been intimate with a woman in three years, he knew when he was being assessed. She continued to study him, moistening her tempting lips with the tip of her tongue. He clenched his hands at his sides, battling the urge to pull her into his arms.

  "That's all right," she finally said. She seemed to mentally shake herself. "I really do need to be going. Thank you for your help today." Turning toward the door, she added, "I'll pick you up around noon tomorrow. We can have lunch at the cafe again and talk to the sheriff afterward."

  "That will be fine," he said curtly.

  "Good night then."

  If she didn't get the hell away from him, he would lose what little control he maintained. "Good night."

  He thought she might say something else, but he nudged her from the bathroom. His hand shook on the knob, and he quickly locked the door. Not locking her out, but locking himself in. Of course, the problem with that was that the lock should be on the other side. Rick hurried to the shower and turned on the water. He stripped down and climbed beneath the chilly spray.

  Chapter Eight

  Stephanie hurried through the woods. Her behavior with Rick embarrassed her. That feeling had come over her again. An irresistible urge to make love with him. He must have sensed her desire, because he'd hurried her out of the bathroom and locked the door. He'd rejected her.

  He'd shut her out, made it clear he didn't want her. Humiliation had washed over her, and all she could think of was escape. She'd grabbed her clothes from the dryer, hurried into them, and run from the cabin—run from her own shame.

  She didn't understand the things she felt for him. Stephanie wasn't completely innocent. She'd had a lover before. A boy she'd known in college. One she'd planned to marry until the accident happened. Afterward, he'd stopped calling, stopped coming to see her because she couldn't leave her father, couldn't even leave the house most of the time.

  So much for true love. True love was when one person stood beside another no matter the circumstances. Through sickness and in health, for better or for worse. True love was what her parents had had, what she wanted. Certainly not a wild physical attraction to a man who seemed strange in some way she couldn't put her finger on.

  But there were things she liked about Rick besides his face and body. He'd shown tenderness and compassion to the injured wolf that afternoon. She knew he could be gentle, caring, and certainly brave. He could even be funny. So what if he seemed to be a tortured soul at times?

  His brother's death had surely affected him as much as the loss of her parents had affected her. He was lonely—he'd admitted that to her today. She was lonely, too. It only made sense they would be drawn to one another. What suddenly didn't make sense was the fact that as Stephanie hurried along in the dark woods, she realized she could see quite well.

  She stopped and looked around. The shapes of trees, bushes, and even the rocks strewn along her path were easily distinguishable. Glancing up, she noted that the moon wasn't particularly bright.

  "This is odd," she whispered, unsettled by her strange ability. She quickly tried to come up with a logical reason. She'd been camping for some time now; perhaps she had simply become used to the dark.

  What other reason would there be for suddenly developing wonderful night vision? Maybe she'd always been able to see this well in the dark, she reasoned. She probably hadn't noticed before because she was usually so wrapped up in her work.

  She lifted her face to the wind and caught a scent. One she immediately identified with the old woman. A chill raced up her spine. Somehow she knew the woman wasn't gone. She was somewhere nearby… waiting.

  The next day, Rick stared at Stephanie across the cafe table. Although she grew more beautiful to him every day, she had dark circles beneath her eyes and she'd been quiet during the trip to town. She'd ordered a salad with about as much enthusiasm as she would have ordered a plate of worms.

  "What's the matter with you?" he finally asked.

  She glanced up from fiddling with her car keys. "I didn't say anything was wrong."

  "You didn't have to." He studied her face. "Have you been sleeping all right?"

  Her lashes drifted downward, merging with the dark circles beneath her eyes. "I can't seem to settle down and get comfortable," she admitted. "And the noise…"

  "The noise?" he repeated with a laugh. "What noise?"

  Running a hand through her long hair, she said, "Owls hooting, branches snapping, leaves rustling. I never realized the great outdoors was so noisy."

  "Most people wouldn't notice," he said, then frowned. His own hearing had become sharper after the incident that had forever changed him. It had taken him a while to notice, but he'd lived in the city then.

  The sirens blaring on the expressway in the distance had always sounded annoyingly loud when he'd been trying to sleep. But later, they had sounded as if they were right outside the house.

  "Maybe you should stay with me," he suggested, thinking he should keep a closer eye on her. She was starting to worry him.

  She lifted a brow. "Stay with you?"

  "You could have the bedroom, and I'd sleep on the couch," he assured her, but considering what had already gone on between them, he had as much trouble believing that as she probably did.

  "I don't think that would be a good
idea. You don't have locks on all the doors to keep me out."

  Her last comment startled him. Was that what she'd thought? That he'd been locking her out rather than locking himself in? "I was trying to be a gentleman," he said.

  "You succeeded." She sighed. "I'm sorry I made that crack about locked doors. I'm tired and I got up on the wrong side of the ground this morning."

  "I offered you my bed," he reminded. She looked exhausted and embarrassed. "Feather down mattress, hot showers, coffee in the morning."

  "Don't tempt me." She laughed, but her gaze drifted over him in lazy inspection before she seemed to realize her actions. "I'm perfectly fine where I am. I'm not on vacation, I'm on assignment." She glanced around the small cafe. "I don't see the sheriff here today. I guess we'll have to go to his office once we finish."

  Rick nodded, then dug into his meal. He hated cooking for one and, as a result, seldom ate a hot meal. He couldn't tolerate meat if it was cooked too long, either. He liked it almost raw, nice and juicy. The french fries that came with his burger weren't that appealing to him, but he didn't suppose he could order a whole plate of raw hamburger meat.

  "Do you think the sheriff can do anything about the sheep farmers setting traps?"

  "I doubt if he can legally do much about it, or that he'd want to," he answered. "We'll bring up the matter of your safety, but you were trespassing on private property yesterday, so it won't do much good."

  She reached across the table and snatched a fry from his plate. "I have to trespass if they want me to capture footage of the wolves attacking their livestock. I assumed being allowed on their property was part of the deal."

  "That's the argument we'll present." Rick grabbed for napkins from the container, found it empty, and glanced around. "I'll be right back."

  The container at the next booth was also empty. He looked for Betty but didn't see her anywhere. Spotting a full container on another nearby table, he bent and tried to wrest a handful of napkins from the overstuffed receptacle. He felt a little embarrassed that he couldn't get the wadded napkins out and glanced over his shoulder at Stephanie.